


BeetleJhost

by 12u3ie



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Gen, death tw, hels hermits, helsknight is mentioned, i dont know how to tag things lol, i guess; cause i mean jhost...ghost..., im REALLY bad at tagging huh?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27369433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/12u3ie/pseuds/12u3ie
Summary: Cleo was just working on her base. Before she knew it, the Jhost with the most had appeared.
Comments: 21
Kudos: 24





	1. Six Million

Cleo started off the day by working on her armor stands, as she always does, at her base. She was beginning to create a new creature for the outside of the insectarium. “Just another black concrete here,” she murmured to herself. “Adjust by a couple degrees there, and- oh.” Her inventory was out of armor stands. Checking the shulker box next to her, Cleo realized that had run out too. “Oh well. It’s not like I don’t have approximately one million armor stands at my base, and five million more on the way.” 

As she made her way over to her storage system (if you could even call it that), she recalled the deal she had made with Joe months prior.  _ Something something bionic legs, something something six million armor stands. _ Cleo sighs, stepping into the mountain cave building and weaving around the massive cactus farm Joe built in it. “That man…” Her eyes traced the structure through the ceiling and out to the edge of the rainbow. “Why am I friends with him again?” 

Joe made very little sense to Cleo. She liked that about him though, his subtle chaotic nature. It wasn’t seen much by other Hermits, going to him more often for advice than help with a prank. But it expressed itself in smaller ways: his aversion to diamonds this season, his nomad nature last season, the time he poured lava over the top of Grian’s base and weaved a poem of signs through the middle… Cleo could go on, but she found a shulker box of armor stands first. Promptly picking it up, she made her way outside. 

As she walked by the entrance to her zoo, she stopped to look through it at the coast. Her small beach area was dotted with armor stand people, most of them wearing cod heads. She grinned, remembering how Cod Boy and Wizard Chap had won the Head Games. The armor stand people seemed to be frozen in time, stuck making sand castled or feeding birds or throwing out trash for the rest of time. Cleo, deciding that she was done with her armor stand magic for the day, dropped off the box and went over to her previous works. 

Examining the statues, she realized just how far she had come since last season. “My oh my, aren’t you adorable?” she cooed, crouching before a kid-sized stand playing in the sand. “And to think, I made something that cute.” Given that many of her past bases and builds were monsters and eldritch horrors, it shocked her that she could make such things with just some sticks and props. Cleo stood up with a sigh, about to make her way back to her bed to tuck in for the night. 

Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of something on the horizon. “What is that?” The thing appeared to be floating across the ocean,  _ walking _ across the surface of the water. Cleo shook her head, muttering nonsense under her breath, thinking that the fatigue had finally caught up to her. But nope, there it was, and it seemed to be getting bigger. Nay, it was moving towards her. Cleo began to panic before realizing something simple and obvious: it was probably just someone in frost walker shoes. The Hermits never particularly liked the enchanted footwear - it messed with far to many storage systems and other contraptions - but it wasn’t too far out of the ordinary. With her worries shrinking, Cleo pondered going back into her house. “No,” she said, inching closer to the coastline, “I should probably just stay here and greet them.” 

But as the figure came closer, something seemed off about it. It didn’t look like it was walking, but floating. _Probably a visual glitch._ In fact, it didn’t seem to be moving a muscle. _Again, just visuals._ Its clothes were slightly tattered and worn. _Possibly a mob fight._ It seemed to be wearing a suit, very different from the ones worn by Mumbo, or anyone else for that matter. _People change out their clothes all the time, especially this season._ The collar on its suit seemed to be frayed. Its hair seemed to be dyed a dark purple, like concrete underneath black glass. Its suit was adorned with vertical black and white stripes, with matching pants. As the figure hovered ever closer, Cleo could see a glint off its glasses. _Glasses?_ _Could it be Joe?_ “Well,” she said under her breath, “it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to do something so strange.” Cleo could’ve sworn he didn’t have frost walker shoes… 

“Hey Joe!” She waved at him. 

No response. 

“Yoo-hoo! Joe! What’s up? Why’re ya comin’ around this late?” She kept waiting for him to respond, but he remained silent, inching ever closer to her. “If your goal here is to freak me out, you’ve won.” 

Nothing. 

“You can stop now, Joe.” 

Nothing. 

There was clearly something off about him, but Cleo couldn’t quite pinpoint what. But as he edged closer, she felt dread settle over her as she realized why: his skin was bright blue. 

“Cold, are we?” she asked, failing to hide the fear in her voice. Joe - or whoever this was - smirked, his eyes shut. “Joe, whatever you’re doing-” She stopped as he stepped onto the shore. Cleo wanted to step back, run,  _ just get away, _ but her feet were locked in place. “J-Joe?” 

The man ripped his glasses off in a fluid motion, keeping his eyes closed. He walked closer to her, each step slow and calculated. Dread rose to Cleo’s throat, her heart thumping against her chest. The way the man’s smile grew, she knew that he could hear it. 

He stopped walking suddenly, inches away from her face. Sweat rolled down her cheeks -  _ Zombies can sweat? _ \- as “Joe” stood before her. His lack of breathing would have been worrisome, but she was too afraid to notice. 

After several long moments of dragged-out silence, the man shot his eyes open. They were wide and tinted green, the pupils housed within them the size of pinheads. He took a deep breath, and spoke in a voice that was very clearly Joe’s, but with no soul behind the words. 

“It’s Joe time!”


	2. Introducing!...

“Wh- Who are you?” Cleo’s voice wavered, chills running down her spine, her feet frozen to the ground.

“Well, my dearest zombie, I’m-” The figure paused, seemingly cut off by silence. “…I can’t exactly say. But I know your name,” his smile somehow sharpened further, “ZombieCleo.”

She stumbled backwards, finally finding the strength to cut her feet from the figurative ice. “How do you know that? How do you know my name?” she asked as her hand found its way to the hilt of her sword. 

“Cleo,” the man said, gesturing to the aforementioned hand, “no need to be hasty.” His voice remained level and calm, but it still made Cleo exceptionally angry.

“Fine then,” she said, allowing her hand to drift back to her side. “Answer me this, then: why do you look like a friend of mine?”

He soullessly chuckled. “You mean Hills? Yeah, I get that a lot. Actually, I don’t. I haven’t seen too many people lately. At least not too many of the living variety. Do you count as living? I mean, technically, you  _ are _ a player, just an undead one. So you’re undead then, yes? But doesn’t that mean-”

“Oh my word, stop talking!” Cleo shouted, taking a bold yet cautious step towards the mysterious Joe-like figure. “Get to the point.”

“Alright, alright. Geez, no need to yell.” He adjusted his collar and brushed down his coat. “Like I said, I can’t quite tell you my name. What I  _ can _ say, however, is that I’m here for a reason. Said reason also connects to Mr. Hills, in an interesting way. You’ll see shortly.”

Cleo slowly pulled out her communicator. “And why shouldn’t I just call Xisuma or another admin to ban you?”

“Woah woah woah!” He put out his hands in a similar fashion to someone reassuring an animal. “Just… please trust me. Just for a minute or two; let me tell a bit of my story.”

Cleo glared daggers at the man. “If you so much as think about pulling anything, I’ll break your legs.” Both of them eased up. The man muttered something under his breath. “What was that?”

“Oh, I was just commenting on how zombies never change. ‘I’ll break your legs’ this, ‘I’ll smash open your skull and use it as a soup bowl’ that. Predictable, always predictable. Far separated from other realms of the undead… Or just the plain-old dead in my case.”

“You’re… dead?”

“Of course, Cleo of the zombies!” he said, stretching his arms wide in a grand gesture. “Do you think one gets such a complexion in the land of the living? Or gains the ability to walk through walls? Disappear? Fly? I guess you could say I’m quite the unique guy.”

“So-”

“Please stop asking so many questions.” He rubbed his forehead, feigning a headache. “Despite the fact that I absolutely  _ love _ answering questions - especially those about myself - I’m afraid this is getting a bit too… expositional.”

Cleo was about to comment on the weird phrasing, but remembered that this man was someone connected to Joe. “So what now? I just have to guess your name or something?”

The man opened his mouth to criticize how that technically was still a question, but stopped himself in mild shock. “Y’know what… That’s not a bad idea. I didn’t even think of that - which is rare for good ideas. Oh! How about we make it a game! I’ll let you guess, and we can play hot or cold. Alright? Let’s start!”

Despite her hesitance and worry about the figure before her, she decided to play along. Hell, if this dude  _ was _ a bad guy or evil clone or something, he couldn’t cause too much damage if he was talking and playing a little game. “Okay.” A smirk spread across her face, trying to think of the most ridiculous yet plausible guess she could give. She could barely contain her laughter when she thought of one. “Beetlejuice?”

The space between them was promptly draped with silence. An embarrassed look momentarily fell upon her adversary’s face, but disappeared in a flash. “Close, but no.”

“Beetle… Beetle-something?”

“You’re on the right track... !”   
Cleo tried to get in the mind of her opponent.  _ What would Joe do? If Joe were dead or a ghost, what would he call himself? _ She quickly deduced that it would be a pun.  _ Beetle… Beetle Joe… _ “Beetle…Jhost?”

The man’s face suddenly became lined with shock. “Wow. I’m impressed.”

“That’s your name, then?”

“Yep, that’s the one!”

“BeetleJhost. Huh.” Leave it to Joe to make up a name like that. “So, in relation to Joe - the one I know - you are…?”

He looked at Cleo with puppy eyes. “Hm? Me? Oh I’m no one really. Just a poor young man who had the misfortune of being born in a cruel, dark place. A place so bad, I wouldn’t dare speak its name.” BeetleJhost dropped the act at the drop of a hat. “Nah, I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Did you see the look on your face?! Well, it was the same look as before, but I bet you felt something. Maybe not. Can zombies feel anything other than dead?” He adjusted his collar a second, even more unnecessary time, before gaining his composure. “I’m from Hel, dearie.”

“Hell?”

“No, Hel.”

“Hell? We’re saying the same word,” she said through slightly gritted teeth.

“No, I can tell you’re pronouncing it wrong. See,  _ you’re _ saying H-E-L-L, while  _ I’m _ saying H-E-L. They’re different.  _ Very _ different.”

Cleo, after being in the dark throughout most of this confrontation, finally began to piece things together. “You’re from that place Helsknight is from?”

“Helsknight!” The Jhost nearly jumped out of his icey blue skin. “Is he here? Please tell me he isn’t here.”

Cleo raised an eyebrow, becoming somewhat more confused than before.“He’s not here. He’s in the Nether or something; I don’t know where exactly. But he’s not near.”

BeetleJhost let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Whoo! That was close. See,” he continued, accurately predicting Cleo’s next question, “I’m in a bit of debt. And I need you to help get me out of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't typically post more than one chapter of a story per day, but since I haven't technically worked on this story in nearly a month, here you go!


	3. Debts and Deals

Cleo could barely believe it. This man - BeetleJhost - was Joe’s evil counterpart from Hel(s?). He was dead - a ghost - and was also in some sort of debt. She was about to say to herself that weirder things had happened on the server, but had they? Recently at least, the weirdest Hermitcraft had been was with the turf war thing she knew nothing about. As far as her personal life went, Joe was the oddest thing there. This BeetleJhost guy was a weirder version of Joe, and thus was now the weirdest thing she had seen. Several questions swirled around the zombie’s head.  _ What does this guy want from me? Why not go to… literally anyone else? _

“Well, my dearest ZombieCleo,” BeetleJhost responded (Cleo had apparently spoken her thoughts aloud), “I need your help for a very specific reason. It’s a bit… complicated-” He said this as if everything else that he said in the past ten minutes was perfectly normal “-so it’d probably be best to head inside. Sit down, maybe have a warm beverage of sorts? Gee, I haven’t had some hot coffee or tea in ages. Ever since…” He trailed off, nodding to Cleo as if she knew what the hell he was talking about.

Cleo hesitated, as she had countless times since encountering the ghost. Reluctantly as ever, she walked towards her mountain-cave base, BeetleJhost floating in tow. 

“Wow, this place is… nice,” he remarked, the sarcasm in his voice more than apparent. He tried to pet one of the black cats in the doorway, which earned him a loud hiss. “Hmph,” he scoffed. “Stupid kitties. Thought they liked me.”

Cleo rolled her eyes as she lead the spirit into her abode. He promptly sat on her bed, swinging his feet over the edge like a restless child. “Could I have some tea please? Or coffee or whatever.” 

Ignoring the request, Cleo brought up a chair across from him. “Why are you in debt, and why do you need me?”

“What is this, an interrogation? If so, I plead the fifth! If not, would you be a dear and fetch me a warm drink, y’know, like I asked?”

“Answer the damn question first.”

“Language!” He chuckled. “Get it? The reference?” The zombie’s face remained still, glaring right through the ghost. “Okay, okay. I’ll spill the beans.” He put his hands up in mock defeat. “But not the tea,” he muttered, causing Cleo’s stare to harden. “Anyways, I need your help because I’m in debt to some really bad people. And not just bad; bad for  _ Hels _ . That’s gotta count for something, right? So let’s just say, hypothetically, that I was in debt to, say, your counterpart and the counterparts of a few other hermits. I gathered up a lot of their money, it got to my head, and now they want me dead. Like, the for real dead. Or at the very least in jail. I’m not quite sure. So they want me-” He gestured across his neck. “-grk! And I don’t want that, right? So I’ve gotta get their money back. But then, in an unexpected turn of events, I end up here! I honestly have no clue how I’m here, so I’m just rolling with it. The one thing I do know, though, is that here, I work by, uh… Y’know, so-and-so-juice’s rules. So you’ve gotta say my name three times, yadah yadah, et cetera. Then bam! I’m back home. You got all that?” BeetleJhost snapped out of storytime mode to find Cleo sitting in front of him, staring off into space, drinking… “You got yourself tea?! C’mon, that’s just mean!”

She took a long, loud sip from her mug, which was of course Halloween-themed. “I could say the same about you. Y’know, barging into the server-”

“On accident!”

“-and asking for help to get out of a debt, despite knowing me for less than an hour.”

“Touché. But you could get something out of it, if you want…”

Cleo’s eyebrow raised a bit, leaning back in her seat. Intrigued by what this ghostly Hels alter had to offer, she said, “Go on.”

BeetleJhost’s eyes twinkled. “Well, I mean…” He stumbled, shocked to find the zombie interested in a deal. “I guess, whatever you want. Within reason, of course!” 

She smirked, as this guy clearly wasn’t as good of a negotiator as the real Joe. “So what could I get from you? A diamond block? A stack of ‘em?” She paused. “…A favor, perhaps?”

“Yes!” BeetleJhost nearly jumped out of his seat (bed?). “Anything, anything at all! Just please, for goodness sake, help me get back home.”

She stood up, bring her mug over to a small counter behind the Jhost. “A favor for a trip home seems like a fair trade.”

“Uh-huh! Yep! Totally! Just, y’know, do the thing.” He stood up as well, shaking with excitement. 

“Alright. But we’ve gotta shake on it, yeah? To seal your end of the deal. Because, if I’m being honest-” She turned her head to face him. “-I don’t really trust you.”   
“Yeah, well, if  _ I’m _ being honest, I wouldn’t trust me either, if y’know what I’m saying.” He stuck his hand out, straight as a board. A grin crept its way across his face, his teeth white as snow and sharp as icicles. “So, deal?”

Cleo reached out her hand. “De-”

“Hi Cleo! Are you home? I’m just here to- What in the name of Slimer is going on here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the inconsistency and general lack of updates. I either don't have motivation, or have it at the wrong times lol. Hope you like the story so far! :D (Also, any parentheses are meant to be there)


	4. “Be a doll and spare the lecture”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from "Say My Name" from Beetlejuice: The Musical

“Joe!” Cleo nearly jumped out of her skin. She ripped her hand away from the Jhost, bringing it to her chest. “What’re you doing here?”

“Well, I  _ was _ gonna come over here to do some work on the cactus farm-” He turned his gaze to the specter. “-but it seems that you’re a bit busy.”

Silence momentarily fell over the room. “Oh! Where are my manners?” Sticking out his hand, he said, “Hi! My name is…” He nodded his head towards Cleo.

“Oh, um… BeetleJhost.”

“Yep; that’s me!”

Joe glared at the Jhost. He marched over to the two of them, dropping the supplies that were in his hands. “Cleo,” he said, finally taking his eyes of the ghost. “A word?” He pulled her over to the side of the cactus farm, leaving BeetleJhost floating impatiently by Cleo’s bed.

“Okay,” Joe began, his voice quiet and forceful. “What in the worlds is going on here?”

“Umm…” Cleo struggled to find the right words to minimize the lecture Joe would give. “So, his name’s Bee-”

Joe brought up his hand, nearly slapping it over her mouth. “Yes, yes, I understand. Just… continue.”

“He came here, out of nowhere, on accident, and is trying to strike a deal with me. See, he needs to get out of some sort of debt in Hels, and he needs me to do it. I was just about to-”

“Wait,” Joe interrupted once again. “He’s from  _ Hels!? _ Y’know, the same place as  _ Helsknight!? _ The guy who wants to  _ destroy the server!?” _

“Yes. But,” she added before he could interject, “I was just about to make a deal with him; one that would get him what he wanted without any harm to me or anyone or the server.”

“Cleo… Is he my Hels counterpart?”

“Why of course I am!” BeetleJhost answered from beside the two, startling them both. “Who else would I be modeled after but the amazing Hills himself?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Joe said.

“BJ! Joe and I-”

“M-hm.”

“-are trying to talk right now! Get back over there!” She pointed over to the bed, which had its covers and pillows thrown off.

“Ugh! Fine!” he whined, floating back.

“So, anyways-”

“Cleo! I- I don’t wanna hear it, okay? This is not okay. You have attempted to strike a deal with  _ my _ Hels alter! Do you know how much damage an evil me could do the the server? Can you even comprehend it? Only the gods know how much havoc he could wreak!” He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to center himself. “Cleo.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. It was a gentle touch, betraying the previous tone of his voice. “Do you know how much damage  _ I _ could cause if I wanted to?” 

Cleo, slowly coming out of the shock from Joe’s rage, realized his question wasn’t rhetorical. “Umm… No?”

“No. You don’t. No one does. But I do. I know the ins and outs of this server, all - or at least most - of the hermit’s greatest fears and weaknesses, and exactly what pieces of code to change to make merely existing on this server a living nightmare. But I don’t, because I care about y’all. He-” Joe pointed over to BeetleJhost “-probably doesn’t. He most likely could not care less if anything bad happened. Now, I’m not explicitly stating that he’s here with malintent. But you can’t make a deal with him, Cleo.”

“Joe, I was about to save the server! I was about to get him out of here for good! If you would’ve just-”

“No Cleo!” he shouted. Cleo was deeply frightened by his fury. She had never seen him quite this angry before. “Do you not remember the last time we had to deal with something like this? Can you not recall what it cost us? Or have you forgotten, even as the weight of those mistakes have laid on our shoulders all these years?”

Cleo did remember. How could she ever forget it? A tear threatened to fall from her emerald eyes, but she held it in. “I- I didn’t think about it like that. I’m sorry, Joe.”

Her friend sighed. “You don’t have to be sorry, Cleo. Okay? It’s okay. Just please, for the love of the server, do  _ not  _ make any deals with him. Not even a written contract, since the laws in Hels could be very different, and neither of us have access to any interdimensional lawyers.”

Cleo chuckled softly. “Alright Joe.”

“Alright.” He then turned his attention to the phantom at hand. He walked swiftly over to BeetleJhost, Cleo not too far behind. “Excuse me sir.”

BeetleJhost whipped around, as he had turned his back to the two and was fiddling with a stray comparator. “Yeah?”

“You have entered this server, and I don’t think you have a warrant. So unless you’ve got the legal documents required, I’m afraid I must ask you to leave.”

“Leave? But I can’t leave! I’m stuck here! Did the queen of the undead not tell you that part?”

“Well,” Joe said, taking his communicator from his pocket, “there are several ways to get intruders to leave.”

BeetleJhost’s eyes widened as large as a bowling ball. “No don’t-!”

But it was too late; Joe had already pressed the ban button on the admin panel. BeetleJhost fell to the floor instantly, screaming in pain. Blue bolts of electricity of every shade surrounded and went through him, his semi-transparent skeleton flickering like a cartoon. His eyes shot open, filled with nothing but blue and agony. 

“Joe, turn it off!” Cleo shouted, looking on in horror.

Joe, suddenly realizing the specter was right, spammed the unban button as fast as he could. The lightning and screaming slowly faded out, leaving BeetleJhost gasping for air. 

“I- I told you,” he said between breaths, struggling to get to his feet. “You can’t ban me. Ne- Never have be- been able to. I came here on accident and ca- can’t leave.”

Everyone paused for a moment, the only sounds being BeetleJhost’s ‘breathing’. 

Joe was the first to speak. “I’m sorry for not listening to y-”

“No, nonsense! Like I said to Miss Cleo earlier, you had your reasons. Though,” he muttered, “that doesn’t mean I’m not salty about it.”

“Well then,” Cleo chimed in, “what the hell are we supposed to do now?”

“Let’s make a deal!”

“No!” Joe and Cleo synchronously shouted. 

“So… what’s a ghost to do?”

“Well,” Joe began, “the only solution I have at the moment is to ask ‘Isuma to look at the code. Other than that, I don’t know.”

“Until we get this sorted out, he can just… stay here, I guess?” Cleo’s suggestion earned her a quick glare from Joe, which softened once he came to the same conclusion.

BeetleJhost, though upset he was stuck, was glad he had a place to stay. “Oh goody! I can’t wait for a server tour, or to meet your little friends, or-”

“Nope. None of that.” Joe put his foot down.

“But I’m a good guy. Please?” He fluttered his eyes in mock innocence.

“I said no. You’re staying with either me or Cleo the whole time you are on this server. You will go where we go and you  _ will not _ interact with the other hermits.”

“Ugh, fine!” he whined once again. “But who to stay with? Who to stay- It’s Cleo. I’m not staying with the downer over here.” He jabbed a thumb towards Joe.

“Alright then. Bee-  _ You _ will be staying with Cleo until we can sort out this mess.”

Cleo rolled her eyes. She wasn’t the biggest fan of a phantom house guest, but how could she say no to Joe right now? Besides, how much trouble can one ghost be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Famous last words...
> 
> Posting this the day before my bday; good choice lol. Also, I'm going to try to make updates more regular (also famous last words).

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to suggest some fic names in the comments!


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